


The Tale of a Raindrop

by his-spare-hats (JesterFesta)



Series: Tales that remained untold [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A relationship story that needs more content, Ardyn likes rain, Gilgardyn, I'm sorry Ravus, idk what I'm doing or how to tag, just a quick idea, lots of umbrellas here, very VERY side Ravus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 02:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13917294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesterFesta/pseuds/his-spare-hats
Summary: Describing a possible (or not so possible) first encounter of Ardyn and Gilgamesh and the reason why Ardyn somehow likes to keep Ravus around





	The Tale of a Raindrop

How gray that day was, growing darker by the second. It's not that he didn't like it, it was just so different from what one would usually see when gazing upon the great buildings of Altissia. Yureil Plaza, a broad and quiet place at times like these, the silence only interrupted by the sound of raindrops hitting the ground. One by one. Falling like they always do.

Ardyn suppressed the urge to sigh as he glanced around, eyes scanning the ashy exterior walls, the usually sparkling and shimmering decorations that were reduced to nothing but useless frills in the face of rain. He twirled his black umbrella like a child would unable to stay still for more than five seconds and eyeing the person in front of him more thoughtfully than he would ever admit. The rather intimidatingly broad shoulders and muscular back coated with black and white leathery material that glistened in the rain, the upright (more like uptight) posture, the metallic arm. And most importantly, the white hair. Ardyn would always pretend they were of the same height while simultaneously refusing to get the both of them measured.

A nostalgic glint allowed itself to appear in Ardyn's eyes and he closed them to make sure nobody would see. All of this brought back so many memories. Memories of a time when that city called Altissia didn't even exist. Memories of a time when his people's biggest worry would be the question of what to cook in the afternoon.

Memories of a time when things seemed easy, so easy.

What a jest.

 

It wasn't too long after his family had finally managed to enter the upper-class circles when young Ardyn decided to take a stroll through the city. How old had he been, sixteen? Seventeen at most. A fine age to be prancing around with money, he was beginning to get bored of playing around with the unhealthy lower-class kids anyway, or so he thought.

Anyhow, people were eager to join him on his little walk as rain was falling, drip drop, giving him strained smiles he would deliberately ignore. Ardyn liked rain, he had never understood why people would keep cursing until the sky cleared up when rain was such a wonderful and calming thing.

Drip drop. How many stories the water could tell. Each drop had traveled so far, flown up to the sky, been nothing but steam and now they came back with a whole adventure log. How exciting.

But Ardyn was one to stick with the rules he was given – though he _enjoyed_ exhausting those far more – so he allowed people to tag along, flatter him with words and carry his umbrella like it was expected of him. It was somewhat comical to have so many people in the palm of his hand, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy having an influence this big. It was so new to him. People listening. People telling him he did well and would keep doing so. People encouraging him. Still, he knew they all just said those things without even thinking too much about the hyperbolas rolling from their tongues. But who was he to complain with all the attention he got? His birthday was drawing near then, that he could remember, and people were busy telling him that they were hoping for the sun to shine then. He came to believe that sunlight is something no birthday should be celebrated without.

Ardyn kept chattering away, talking about basically everything that came to his mind. _Talk as long as they listen_ , a quiet voice whispered in his head over and over again and he would gladly follow when he let his eyes wander, gaze suddenly getting stuck on a blotch of white, blurred by the tremendous amount of rain. He squinted recognizing the white blotch as someone's hair, a boy's hair, to be exact. How intriguing the lack of color looked compared to his own warm and purplish hair color. 

The people surrounding Ardyn followed in confused silence, again, not thinking and only following their rich friend's son to the probably same-aged kid with long and drenched white hair. He was trembling, water drops accumulating and running down his sharp facial features as he did not seem to have an umbrella with him. How strange.

The nouveau riche young man cleared his throat and reached for one of the dark umbrellas somebody was holding on to, taking it and holding it above the drenched fellow's head with a warm smile he liked to use. People seemed to cheer up when he smiled these days. “My birthday arrives, but alas, without the sun being my guest.” The other's fair eyes stared at him relentlessly, only interrupted by short blinks. Silence. Drip drop. Ardyn swallowed, smile turning into a smirk. “Not that I'd have invited it anyway.” His arm was turning numb from holding out the umbrella and he gestured for the other to take it but he didn't move.

“I am not in need of your pity.”

Was that his voice? It was deep, scratchy like he hadn't spoken in a long time, well, maybe he really hadn't. Ardyn cocked his head to the side with a slight pout. “Pity? Well, sorry you look a little lost? Why not go home?”

“You will have to define _home_ ”, he just replied with a glance at the handful of people following Ardyn around. “A place where people pretend to like me for something I am not? I do not think I am in need of that either.” The red-haired wondered how someone looking this déclassé could still say something as striking. Ardyn felt caught and childish for some reason, thinking himself to be worth all this attention and pretending it was genuine on top of that. The stranger was right, he did not need that kind of home, especially not when the unwanted company started throwing each other unsure glances. Jesters altogether. But what he _did_ need in his life was more people like the stranger, so he kept holding out the umbrella.

“True.” A glare at the others. “Go home, I do not wish to see you for a while.”

“But, young master Izunia, we cannot leave you here with-”

“Did I not express myself well enough?” He turned around, watching them shrink under his gaze with satisfaction. Fake attention was by far not as amusing as genuine fear. The thought crossed his mind but he pretended it never existed. He didn't want to be that kind of dark person at such a young age. Still, he wanted to pretend a little longer. Pretend to hold power over people he did not know. 

It took them only seconds to retreat in a hurry, leaving Ardyn with the stranger who was still shielded from the rain by his merciful act. “Better?”

The stranger wore a frown and it deepened, more an more. “I never told you to send them away.”

“Oh, you got me there”, he chuckled raising his free hand as if to surrender, “but I really wanted to talk to you some more as you seem quite interesting, my dear friend.”

“I do not think I need to stay and-”

“-talk to me? No. But what you need is a warm shower and I can provide that so you will come with me simply out of self interest. I will bring you to the warm house we just moved into, you will have a cup of tea and listen to me talking. At some point you will just have to laugh because – if I may add – I am amusing to be around and then you will tell me what brought you out into the rain without anyone or anything else with you. I will understand and judge whether you are still interesting but no matter what my conclusion shall be we will both have gained something from this little random encounter, don't you think? You are out of luck, I will not let you go anymore, so be a sweetheart and take the umbrella, if you will? My house is down the street on the left.”

The stranger stepped aside after a few seconds of hesitation, further away from the sheltering umbrella and again into the rain that was beginning to soak Ardyn's clothes as well. “You should not force your luggage onto others. Those people just now were only waiting for you to give them an opportunity. That umbrella you are offering me could be your death one day.”

“An umbrella would be far better than the vanishing disease if you asked me. And my arm is so tired, come on, lend me a hand.”

The white-haired opponent huffed, still no expression of any kind on his face but he moved into the direction Ardyn had pointed out earlier. Ardyn's predictions had never been wrong so far. “If it is so tiring you should not have taken it from a jester in the first place.”

“True words, I cannot deny. Let us move, then. The faster we get there the faster I get rid of my token of kindness”, Ardyn sighed, the other remaining as unimpressed as ever.

“Is that some sort of threat?”

“Who do you take me for, I would never!”, he replied dramatically placing a hand on his chest before neatly folding up the umbrella with raindrops soaking each and every fiber of his clothes. He felt a lot better than mere minutes ago. Kind of free. “My name is Ardyn. Who are you, Mister attitude-even-when-soaked and what brought you here today?”

“Attitude is not something you rid yourself of, Ardyn, King of jesters and umbrellas”, the other said, slight amusement finally making his mask crack. Ardyn liked this guy. “You can call me Gil.”

 

Later, Gil would often write down thoughts he had throughout their journey. Thoughts of all kinds. About food, animals, the past, his future, the meaning of life, the fact that Ardyn was pretending to be taller than him (oh please, he was not just pretending then!) there was no end to it. Ardyn had always enjoyed reading those – without the other's permission, of course – and recently, all the times he would mention umbrellas as some sort of metaphors he could not help but smile coldly. How right he had been. Ardyn watched many people surrounded by groups of even more people holding their umbrellas with never ending degradation. 

The most fun person to observe was none other than the leader of the Niflheim Empire. He was a famous person, of course, in name as in face. Liked by some. Feared by many. Hated by the most. And easily, oh so easily blinded by flattery. People carried his umbrella waiting for an opportunity to strike like they always did. People carried his umbrella hearing him talk and waiting for an opening. Wanting to betray him, strike him down with that very same umbrella. Like they always did. But Ardyn would never let someone carry his umbrella, not anymore. Far from being in the center he preferred watching from a distance, holding on to his own little shield. His own little baggage. These days nobody ever cared enough to carry it for him anyway. It's not like he was the important one anymore. 

This was who he had turned out to be ever since that one fateful meeting with a stranger named Gil.

 

How gray that day was, growing darker by the second. The raindrops hit the ground without stopping for even a second. One by one. Falling like they always do. Drip drop.

And there, right in front of him, was a young man of a build so familiar he couldn't help wishing to return to back then, couldn't help holding out his arm to shield the other from the relentless rain. “The wedding day arrives, but alas, without the bride”, he purred, amused at how splendidly he could reuse old and familiar structures. Some things never seem to change, do they?

The man with white hair turned away, leaving Ardyn to his monologues once more. “Of course, we've come for the Hydraean, and you've gone to such lengths to prepare.” He went on and on and the more he talked the more the memory of that other rainy day vanished again. Vanished like everything would end up doing at some point in time. Yet, even when his company turned around at a question, muttering a less than malcontent 'no', the image of the young stranger named Gil did not vanish. He was staring straight back at him, cold and unmoved eyes like then. But Ardyn had changed. He did not let himself be interested in the cause of their coldness anymore no matter whose name their owner held. Strangely enough there was no difference between the two of them. Gil and Ravus. Who cared if they were ready to tell him their stories or not? He held on to his umbrella's handle, shielding himself from the never ending rain he came to dislike more and more. 

How interesting a story could a raindrop tell anyway?

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I had that umbrella metaphor with people waiting for an opportunity and everything written down and found it to be suitable for Ardyn, thinking back to that scene with the umbrella with Ravus (and the other one in a versus trailer) Also I like the idea of Ardyn comparing Ravus and Gil.  
> It was meant to be different but well, I just had to get this out into the world, it's quite the mess but maybe you enjoyed anyway <3


End file.
